


Pinky promise

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Getting to Know Each Other, Greg risks it for him, Happy Ending, M/M, Mycroft promised, Mycroft volunteers, Mycroft wins, Peacekeepr Greg, Promises, Stars, The Games, Worried greg, escape place, fluff in the midts of chaos, looming doom, mystrade, surprise, tribute Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26007982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: It was reaping time, his first time at the outer districts, seeing it for himself not only through the screens. He was privileged or we might say lucky to be born at the right district. Meaning he needn't worry about getting selected and getting slaughtered by his peers. Instead he watched them do so from the safety of his home. When coming of age he joined the police force, so he could move more freely, so he could see the country for himself.Which was not at all what he imagined.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Pinky promise

“Come on.” Greg hissed trying to gently guide the young girl towards the podium. 

It was reaping time, his first time at the outer districts, seeing it for himself not only through the screens. He was privileged or we might say lucky to be born at the right district. Meaning he needn't worry about getting selected and getting slaughtered by his peers. Instead he watched them do so from the safety of his home. When coming of age he joined the police force, so he could move more freely, so he could see the country for himself.

Which was not at all what he imagined.

“Don’t make a scene!” he pushed the terrified young girl towards the stairs. “Up you go.” she was shaking terribly as Greg walked her up the stairs, handing her over to his colleagues.

The next one was a similarly young boy. Greg closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, he hated when such young people got selected, but from ten to eighteen, no one was safe. The boy got pushed towards him by his peers, his unruly black curly hair sticking everywhere, big blue eyes scanning the crowd frantically, clearly looking for someone.

“No.” a yell came from a few lines back. “Don’t take him!” Greg handed the little boy over and marched towards the disturber to put him back in line. “I volunteer!” his cold blue eyes were filled with determination. “I volunteer!”

“A volunteer! Now that is a first! Come up young man, come.” the presenter smiled at him. Greg took his arm firmly, but there was no need for any force since the young man walked with him without resistance. The little boy stared at him with big blue, tear filled eyes. “Run Sherlock.” he whispered when passing him. 

“What is your name?” the presenter asked when they reached the podium.

“Mycroft Holmes.”

“Holmes, so that was your little brother.”

“Yes.”

“How courageous of you.” he had his eyes fixed on his little brother

“It is what it is.”

“Let’s all applaud our tributes!” there was dead silence on the main square. “Well, may the odds be in your favour.” the tributes were ushered inside the town hall.

“Stay here.” Greg closed the door behind Mycroft.

Not long after the door opened again. “You don’t have any visitors.”

“Not surprised.” Mycroft was staring out of the window. 

“Your brother?”

“Pretty sure mother did not allow him to see me.”

“Why? Don’t they wish to see you one last time?” Mycroft snorted.

“You don’t have high hopes in me.”

“Just the statistics.” he whispered apolitically.

“The odds never have been in my favour.” Mycroft turned around. He took a better look at his guard. He was a similarly young man, brown hair peppered with grey strands, deep brown eyes, well worked body. ‘Focus!’ Mycroft warned himself. ‘Not here to...well you’ll be dead soon so why not. Looking never hurt anyone.’

“No?” Mycroft blinked a few to bring back himself to real life.

“I see they’ve been in yours.”

“It is mandatory to serve.”

“A year, I’m pretty sure they don’t send temporaries out to the districts.”

“True.” he mumbled. “My third year, first time out.”

“How do you like our humble district?” Mycroft waved around.

“It’s so colourful, I mean there are real colours here, natural colours.” he smiled widely, clearly excited about the trip. “The trees, the lakes...you are lucky to live here.” 

“So lucky.” Mycroft snorted.

“Sorry, didn’t mean...Do you work in the woods?” he tried to change the subject.

“No, I teach. Just to see how lucky I am...I have asthma, which flared every time I was out in the forest working. So I got degraded.”

“You know the little girl then.”

“Molly, yes. She and Sherlock are in the same year.” 

“How old is she?”

“Ten, only ten years old.” they fell silent hearing her scream. “Time to go?” Mycroft tried to look as unmoved as possible. In reality he was terrified as well.

“Yes Mycroft.”

“What is your name?”

“Greg.”

“Thank you for keeping me company Gregory.”

“Sure. Let’s head out then.” he reached for his arm.

“No need, I’m coming.” he waved. “Gregory…” he turned to him when they stepped to the corridor.

“Yes?” he answered reluctantly, he did not want anyone seeing him patronise with the tributes.

“Let me take Molly.” she was screaming, fighting in another guard’s arms. Greg nodded and exchanged a few words with his colleague. Mycroft stepped closer taking Molly’s hands, kneeling in front of her. 

“Hey.” he smiled at her.

“I want to go home.” she sobbed.

“I know, I know...but now you need to come with me, okay?”

“Not really.” she sniffled.

“To a field trip...a trip no one else can go to. How that sounds?” she just sniffled. “Let’s go then.” Mycroft smiled at her, standing up. They walked down the stairs hand in hand to the waiting train. 

“Have you ever been on a train?” Mycroft whispered to her.

“No, you?”

“No.” he smiled. “Isn’t that exciting?”

“Kind of.” she was the first to step on. Mycroft turned back to look at his home for one last time. “Sherlock!” he involuntarily stepped closer as he spotted him on a rooftop.

“Rather not.” he bumped into Greg’s arm, then the door closed loudly.

“Sorry.” Mycroft whispered. “I just wanted to…”

“I know.” 

“Where is Molly?” he looked around. “Where did they take her?”

“In the dining cart, just through there.” he answered calmly.

“Oh.” he sighed relieved.

“You care for her.”

“I spend all day with them, teach them...for this!”

“I’m guessing you don’t want kids of your own then.”

“No, they’d just get slaughtered for your entertainment.”

“I...don’t enjoy it.”

“Why are you taking part in it then?”

“Honest job.” he shrugged. “Time to join them.” he gently pushed Mycroft towards the door.

“Anderson, what good he’s for us.” he sighed seeing him. “A drunken fool.”

“He won once.”

“Yeah, surprised by that.” Mycroft sighed but stepped to the room. 

***

“You are not supposed to be here.” Mycroft got startled. 

“Nor you.” he was in the last carriage, watching the passing lands. Outside the districts there was nothing, only burnt up deserted lands.

“I noticed you did not eat.” he was carrying a packed plate 

“I’m not hungry.”

“Who would be.” he sighed. 

“You.”

“Not really.” Greg sat next to him with a sigh. “I feel nauseous.”

“You?” he asked with disbelief.

“Yes, me. I have feelings as well, you know.”

“Now I know.”

“Eat a little, you’ll need your strength.”

“What for? Getting killed first?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Surviving.”

“I won’t.”

“Why are you so sure about it?”

“Gregory, we’ve both seen enough games, we both know how it will go down. Better to accept it.”

“Then enjoy the little things while you can.” he offered the plate to him. Mycroft hesitated a bit but finally took a pastry.

“You might be right, there is no point in dieting anymore.”

“Not that you need it.” Greg whispered turning red when he realised what he just said, Mycroft acted like he did not notice it. “I get you some tea as well, be right back.” he was surprised to find Mycroft still there when he returned with a big mug.

“Molly is in bed already, poor thing cried herself to sleep.”

“No wonder, I can say anything, pretend that everything is fine and it’s just a big adventure but she knows very well what is going to happen.” he took the mug. 

“Are you cold?” Greg asked seeing the mug shake in his hands.

“No.” he whispered staring into his tea, Greg placed his hands above Mycroft’s to prevent any spillage, his hands were soft and warm. “I’m just...I’m not weak.” he murmured.

“I know that Mycroft.”

“How?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I just have to look at you.” he whispered. “You saved your brother today, that is the bravest thing I ever experienced.”

“Anyone would do the same.”

“Yeah,” Greg snorted. “All those kids had no sisters or brothers. Molly had no older sisters, am I right?”

“It was my decision, my life.”

“Exactly; your courageous decision.”

“I didn’t even think it through.” Mycroft chuckled dryly. They sat there in silence watching as the last of the sun rays disappeared.

“I think we better go to bed as well. Big day tomorrow.”

“Don’t think I could sleep. You have to stay ready all around the clock?”

“Till one of you is awake, yes.”

“So you have to stay up with me all night long?”

“If that is what you do.” he shrugged. “It’s getting cold quickly.” he shivered, the sun already started to go down.

“Not used to it?”

“Not really.” Greg wrapped his arms around himself. 

“I am.”

“Really? But you have all those woods! One would think that heating is something easy for you.”

“The woods are for you, not for us. We don’t see much of it.”

“No?”

“No hunting in the woods, no foraging. Starvation and cold...not what they show in the media.”

“No.”

“They come, get us dressed properly and then we are ordered at gunpoint to act happy and carefree. The footage is used all year around afterwards.”

“No long walks in the woods?”

“Not saying you can’t manage it.” he smiled sadly. 

“You and your girlfriend?”

“Not a girl.” he mumbled.

“Oh, I see. Why didn’t he come to see you?”

“He is dead, been for the past two years.”

“The games?”

“No, illness.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing will change that.”

“You are free to love at least.” he sighed wishfully.

“Aren’t you?”

“Not really encouraged. You can find a way of course, but it is risky.”

“Cost you your job?”

“Your life. We are taught in school what is the acceptable way of life.”

“And I teach them how to survive in these times.”

“More useful.”

“Certainly.” Greg could almost catch him smiling, genuinely smiling.

“What do you do with your free time?”

“Like I have any.”

“Surely you have some time, even I can manage it. I love reading, go out to meet my friends, sleep...”

“During the evenings I’m home with my brother, playing, reading whatever I can put my hands on, it is rather limited.”

“I know what you mean.” he sighed, the available books were carefully selected by the President. 

“I have a hidden garden in the attic, I tend to that.”

“Not allowed?”

“No, you won’t....”

“My lips are sealed, promise.” Mycroft tilted his head back, eyes fixed on the sky. Greg kept his eyes on Mycroft, trying to figure what he could be thinking at the moment.

“The stars.” Mycroft broke the silence. Greg looked up as well, his mouth fell. Never in his life he saw so many stars; in the city, the lights over shone them.

“Wow.” he whispered.

“They are something, aren’t they?” Greg hummed in agreement.

“You can stay as long as you want but I think I go to bed now.” Greg got up finally.

“I try to rest as well.” Mycroft stood up. “Ops…” he fell into Greg’s arms. “Sorry, my legs fell asleep.” he whispered, Greg smelt really nice. Mycroft felt ashamed, he was wearing his best clothes that were nothing compared to Greg’s, and he definitely did not smell as good as him.

“It’s fine.” Greg chuckled. 

“Thanks.” Mycroft managed to stand on his own finally, it might have taken him more time than necessary, if we want to be honest. 

“Don’t mention it...I really mean it.”

“Sure.” Mycroft stepped away from him. “Night Gregory.”

“Good night Mycroft.” 

***

“Look, we are almost there.” Mycroft pointed out of the window. “That is the presidential palace.”

“That is huge!”

“Yes, look how sparkly it is.” ‘What a waste.’ Mycroft thought to himself. All those resources just to make a big, shiny palace for one person.

“Our lakes are prettier, it’s badly polluted.”

“It’s not well maintained, I agree.”

“I could do it for them.”

“I’m sure of that Molly. “

“What was that?” she got startled when reaching the tunnel.

“We should get changed.”

“Why?”

“First impressions are important.”

“Okay.” she took his hand. The door opened and Greg was standing there, making Molly hide behind Mycroft.

“We just wish to get changed.” Greg stepped aside letting them pass then followed Mycroft to his room.

“Why?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I think you should choose another outfit.” he whispered.

“Why?”

“To make a statement.”

“I didn’t bring anything with me, if you forgot. And they put it out for us.”

“There is more in the wardrobe.” Greg closed the door behind them hearing footsteps.

“You are in my room.” Mycroft stated not being sure how to feel about it.

“Yes, I am.” he smiled. “Now…” he cleared his throat looking through the clothes. “Perfect.” he took out a shirt, waistcoat and a tie. It’s warm out, you don’t need a suit jacket.”

“Why these?”

“Trust me.” he handed them over.

“Are you going to stay?” Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

“There is someone out.” Greg whispered. “I don’t want to risk them seeing me leave your room.”

“The train is filled with cameras.”

“No need for it, nowhere to go. Guards everywhere, doors windows sealed...nothing you can do really.”

“True. At least turn around, please?” Mycroft hugged the clothes, the fabric felt heavenly under his fingers. 

“Just hurry up.” Greg turned around. “We’re almost there.” he caught a glance of Mycroft’s pale freckled skin in the mirror, so he closed his eyes to be decent. He promised after all.

“How do I look?” he gently tapped Greg’s shoulder.

“Oh, wow.” he murmured turning around.

“Is it a good wow?”

“Definitely.” he whispered. “You look very fine, it fits you...very nicely.” ‘at the right places’ Greg thought to himself. 

“Thank you.” Mycroft ran his hand over the clothes. “Never had such fine clothes…nor will I.”

“Let’s go now.” Greg opened the door. Mycroft nodded and stepped out to the corridor.

“Dear me.” Mycroft whispered watching the crowd gathered at the platform as the train stopped.

“It’ll be fine.” Greg whispered before they were joined by Molly and Anderson.

“It’s disgusting.” Mycroft hissed seeing them all elated, ecstatic about their arrival. “We walk to the slaughter house with a parade.”

“It is what it is.” Greg mumbled.

“Very funny.” Mycroft rolled his eyes. 

“Shut up already.” Anderson barked. “Complaints and complaints and complaints...can’t you just shut up for an hour?” grunted. “Off we go.” he opened the door, letting the yells wash over them. Mycroft took Molly’s hand and stepped off to the platform. 

***

“You did good, the crowd adored you two. Now; the preparation for the parade.”

“How do you always turn up next to me?” Mycroft chuckled when Greg appeared next to him.

“Get used to it, we are stuck till the last second.”

“So you come with me to the arena?” he smirked.

“No, just till the elevator.”

“What shall I expect now? What do you consider “preparation”?”

“Lots of complaints, scrubbing, a total makeover; hoping for the best is the only way I can describe it.” he shrugged.

“Great.” Mycroft huffed.

“Hope they don’t mess with your hair.” Greg whispered.

“No one in the family has ginger hair. It’s a trick of nature. My skin is sensitive, my eyes are sensitive, my body is weak...”

“But your mind and soul is strong.” Greg whispered before the door opened.

Greg stood guard while Mycroft was cleaned up without a shred of consideration for him. He stood in the middle of the cold room, naked, at their mercy. “I believe you ran out of time.” Greg broke up the chattering.

“Have we?”

“Yes.” he nodded seriously; there was time still, but Greg could tell that Mycroft was close to the breaking point. “Get him dressed!”

“He can dress himself.” they left hurriedly. Mycroft took the green suit covering himself with it. He sighed with relief, at least he would look boring and not silly. 

“Boring is not that good.” Greg seemed to read his mind.

“Better than getting laughed at.” he turned his back to Greg while dressing up. “Better than nothing.” he turned around not daring to look up.

“I’m sorry they treated you like this, they don’t expect much from your district...so why put any effort into the…”

“Looser. Let’s get it over with.” Mycroft grunted.

“We still have time, just wanted to put an end to it.”

“To save my hair? You can have it once I’m dead.”

“Ewww, no thanks.” Greg frowned. Mycroft sat at the table wrapping his arms around his legs.

“These don’t suit you.” Greg sat next to him. “Nor the colour nor the cut.”

“And it’s boring as well, I know.”

“If they’d known you…”

“You don’t know me at all.”

“Would you allow me to...get to know you?”

“Not that I have a lot of time.” Mycroft finally looked at him. “What do you want to know?”

“What you are comfortable sharing with me.”

“Right, I have a brother as you know and a sister, youngest to ever win the Games.”

“She is your sister?!!” Greg asked with disbelief. Everyone knew of Eurus, the youngest to win, the shortest game. 

“Yes.”

“Oh, how was she growing up?”

“Living hell.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Lost dad, she got moved away and...we settled in as best we could. Mother never forgave me for getting her removed.”

“You did a brave thing.”

“She is dangerous, I couldn’t let her hurt anyone in the district. I had to protect Sherlock. I had to...”

“Do you know where she is now?”

“Where?”

“Secure mental institute.” Greg whispered. “They couldn’t risk her walking around freely, not after the ‘accidents’ around her.”

“Well, at least everyone is safe. Then I disappointed my mother further by not being able to work as everyone else.”

“Education is not a virtue?”

“Not in her eyes...not to mention when she figured out that I had a boyfriend. Just so you understand why no one said goodbye to me. I’m not betting on anyone liking me here as well, not that I’ll need sponsors...” he murmured.

“If I understand correctly you won’t try to survive.”

“Not really, no. I planned it out, but was a coward to make the last steps; this way I just have to let it happen.”

“Mycroft.” Greg reached for his hand.

“I made my peace with it.” he smiled sadly. 

“You are not a coward.”

“You should have seen me hide from confrontation.”

“That is being clever, you don’t need to…someone is coming!” Greg stood up quickly but the footsteps passed the room.

“I’m just being realistic.”

“Let’s change the topic.” Greg sat back. “What is your favourite colour?”

“Colour? It is black.”

“Black? Really?”

“Yes, like the night sky; The vast never ending night sky. Yours?”

“Blue, just like it.” he shrugged.

“It would suit you well.”

“Then submit your uniform ideas.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Can you draw?”

“They say I’m decent in it.”

“Would you show me sometimes?”

“Might as well.”

“Blue would be better for our uniform, white is pretty hard to keep clean. I’m a messy eater so it’s even harder.”

“No one taught you how to eat properly?”

“Apparently.” Greg chuckled. “Usually we are in a rush so accidents happen.”

“I’ll have to teach you how to eat properly? Me, the pig from the woods?”

“Who called you that!”

“Them.” he nodded towards the door.

“Idiots.” Greg snorted taking his hand. “You are gorgeous.”

“Am I?” he asked with disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Luckily I’m good at telling when someone is lying.”

“I’m not.”

“No. But one might think this is your way of having fun with the soon to be dead.”

“That is not me, no. Also…” he laced their fingers. “At the second I laid my eyes on you I felt butterflies in my stomach.” he smiled. “It’s something I never experienced before and I don’t wish it to end.”

“It will.” Mycroft rested his head on his shoulder. Greg ran his fingers through his hair.

“Your hair smells really nice.” he whispered. “Not that you did not smell nice before.”

“Thanks, I believe my scalp bled, they scrubbed it so vigorously.” Greg gently ran his fingers over his scalp. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’ll heal. What was that sound?”

“Time to head out.” Greg helped him up. “Remember to make them like you.”

“I’ll try my best.” Mycroft looked at the mirror. “Could be worse.” Greg quickly fixed his hair. 

“Better. Let’s head out then.” Greg led Mycroft to the basement. 

“Mycroft, look at them!” Molly ran to him. “Look.” she led him to their carriage. “So gorgeous and friendly.” she patted the nose of the horse. 

“Your dress is really nice.”

“Thanks.” she turned around, she looked perfect and innocent in the dress, Mycroft’s heart sunk to his stomach. “I never thought I'd see horses in real life.”

“Me neither.” Mycroft patted the horse’s neck. She was clearly in denial, but it was better for now, Mycroft tried to reassure himself. “Had fun?”

“Yes, it was nice. The water was warm and never stopped! Not like at home.”

“Indeed.” Mycroft helped her to the carriage. “Now comes the parade; smile and wave at them.”

“What good will that do?”

“Can’t do any harm.” Mycroft shrugged.

“Why doesn’t Mr. Anderson give us any advice?”

“We are on our own kiddo.” Mycroft took her hand. 

“How about your friend?”

“My friend?” Mycroft frowned.

“I’ve seen the looks.” she smiled at him.

“What looks?” Mycroft turned red.

“The looooooks.” she batted her eyelashes. “He can help?”

“A little bit. Now, focus on not falling off this carriage.” Mycroft held on tightly.

“It’s easy.” she chuckled.

“I hope so.”

“Are you scared?”

“Falling off and being laughed at? Yes, aren’t you?”

“No.” she shrugged.

“Well, someone is born a Princess.” he smiled at her. His heart ached for her, more than for himself. 

***

“Hey.” Greg found Mycroft sitting at the roof after the parade.

“Look at them.” he scanned the streets with disgust, people were out on the streets, partying, having fun, celebrating the slaughter to come. “Look.”

“I’m looking.” he sat next to him, his eyes only on Mycroft. “May I redirect your eyes?”

“Where to?” Greg reached for his chin, tilting his head upward. 

“I know it’s not the real thing, but I got it set up for you.” Mycroft smiled at the small fairy lights arranged like constellations. “We barely see the real stars, with all the city lights.”

“I could…” Mycroft closed his eyes. “No I can’t teach you the constellations.”

“I bet you have a magnificent view of them.”

“The best is to climb to the top of a tree, there you can feel really close to them. I like just staring at them, getting lost in them, forgetting about everything else.” he leant against Greg’s chest to look at his makeshift stars. Greg wrapped his arms around him. 

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen, my last year. Statistically I had a good chance of getting selected. Based on my years and how many times I signed up for extra rations; and they had to choose my brother! My little brother, who had his name in there once!” he trailed off.

“I have a younger brother as well, somewhere...I still hope he’s alive. My father was executed for treason, we were taken from mum, raised by the state. We got separated, right away.”

“Tried to locate him?”

“Many times, no luck so far. They might have changed his name, he might have forgotten about me.”

“I’m sure not.”

“I hope so.”

“You work for the state to prove that you are not your father’s son?”

“I am his son!”

“Sorry.” Mycroft whispered. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”

“No, it’s okay.” he sighed. “I just want them to know that I’m not a threat.”

“Want to be safe.”

“Yes.” Greg rested his chin on the top of Mycroft’s head. 

“Not exactly doing that right now.”

“I know.” he chuckled burying his face to Mycroft’s ginger hair. 

“Tomorrow the training starts.”

“Be careful, you can get hurt pretty badly and they’d still send you to the arena.”

“I’ll be good, sit in the corner and read...promise.” Mycroft looked up with a faint smile.

“I’ll get you some books to read, so you can rest at the end of the day.”

“Gregory, be sensible!”

“I can’t.” he tightened his hold around him. “I just can’t.”

“What’s the point, tell me! I’m going to be dead in a week! What’s the point.”

“You...making you feel loved as you should be, care for you, do anything I can for you even if just for a week.”

“No point.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Gregory.” Mycroft sat up to face him.

“Mycroft?” he smiled at him leaning closer. 

“I don’t want to hurt you as well.”

“You won’t.”

“I will...just like it happened with Sam.”

“He got sick, you told me so.”

“But he got sick because of me!” Mycroft grabbed Greg’s shirt. “I was again getting beaten up by the others. We never revealed our relationship, for his sake...but that day he stepped in! He stepped in to help me out. They bashed in his skull, he never regained consciousness. I could never thank him, never say how much I love him...I couldn’t even say goodbye. And it will happen again.”

“He knew all of that My, he knew.” Greg pulled him to a tight hug.

“I’m not so sure.” he trailed off.

“I think it’s time you rest a little.” Greg broke the silence after a while.

“I can’t sleep.” he whispered against his shoulder wiping his tears to his shirt.

“Maybe you could design our new uniform as a distraction. I bet you draw gorgeously, anyone with hands like this is born to be an artist.”

“You know why your uniform is white?”

“Why?”

“To see every drop of blood on it; so we know what way the peace is kept.”

“I’ve never done anyone harm.”

“There will come a time when you’ll have no other choice.”

“I hope not.” they sat in silence, just watching as the wind moved the lights around.

“I get down now.” Mycroft stood up after a while. “Night.”

“Sleep well My.”

***

“I watched you train today.”

“I know.” Mycroft smirked when they met on the roof. “I felt it.”

“It’s my job you know.”

“I know.” he rolled his eyes. “Also know I have no chance.”

“Why not?”

“Seen them?”

“No, sorry, I was too occupied by staring at you in those tight training clothes.”

“Gregory!” Mycroft blushed. 

“You can shoot My.”

“I’m decent in it.”

“Seen you at the survival station as well. You know so much! Also I’ve seen the way you just...like magic disarmed your opponent.”

“It’s nothing.” Mycroft shrugged. “Quick calculation and you know where to expect the blow.”

“But people are…”

“Predictable. They went through the same training…yes they are not allowed to be trained but we know it happens. They are trained just like you.”

“So you think you can defeat me?” he smirked.

“Hand to hand combat?” Mycroft tilted his head. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Greg chuckled, taking up position. 

“Now? But I’m tired.”

“So you are admitting defeat?”

“Never.”

“Well then.” he smirked. “Let the dance begin.”

“How on earth.” Greg was panting on the ground, Mycroft standing above him. 

“As I said, same training and I used your body weight against you.”

“Am I fat?” Greg pouted.

“No, you are very...finely built.” Mycroft blushed. 

“And you are…” Mycroft suddenly tipped out of his balance falling on Greg. “underestimating me.” he chuckled.

“Sorry.” Mycroft mumbled. “I didn’t mean to fall on you.

“You barely weigh anything.” Greg chuckled sliding his hand up and down his back. “What is it?” he whispered, his hand stopping seeing Mycroft’s expression.

“Would you do something for me?” Mycroft asked hesitantly.

“Anything.”

“Close your eyes.”

“Okay.” Greg closed his eyes not knowing what to expect. He gasped when Mycroft’s lips touched his, it was a soft, quick hesitant kiss. 

“Was that okay?” Mycroft asked hesitantly.

“Mmmm.” Greg smiled. “More than okay.” he kissed Mycroft. This time it was a slow, long, more passionate kiss. “My…”

“Yes?” he kept running his fingers through Greg’s hair.

“It’s getting late.”

“You might be right.” he laid his head on Greg’s chest. “But you said I can do as I please between these walls.”

“Yes, but I have to be in my room on time.”

“Sorry.” he sat up quickly. “Did not wish to get you in trouble.”

“Don’t be sorry, thank you for the schooling. Tomorrow?” Greg took his hand kissing it.

“I’ll be here.” Mycroft whispered.

***

“I was looking for you upstairs.” Greg stepped to Mycroft’s room.

“Oh, sorry.” Mycroft called out from the bathroom. “I’ll just take a shower.”

“Take your time My. How’s Molly?”

“She is in denial. Thank you for the pills….at least she can sleep some.”

“It’s nothing. I brought you a book.” he put it down.

“Kind of you.”

“You’ve probably read it, but this is my favourite.” Greg stepped towards the door, something in Mycroft's voice made him uneasy.

“Gregory!” he snapped when the door opened.

“Hey.” he chuckled.

“What are you doing?” Mycroft looked exhausted.

“Checking on you, it was a rough day for you.” Greg watched Mycroft getting beat up and falling from equipment all day long.

“I was distracted.”

“By what?”

“You and…”

“Your adopted little ones.” Greg stepped behind him gently wrapping his arms around him. 

“It is so unfair.” he whispered shakily.

“It is.” Greg kissed his neck. “It is.” Greg stepped away turning on the tap, making a bath for him. “Come here.” he whispered, he undressed Mycroft and helped him to the tub. “Let me take care of you now. You deserve that, you take care of everyone now time for me to take care of you.”

“I’m fine.” he whispered sitting stiffly in the tub. 

“Lean back.” Greg stroked his back. “Lean back darling, please.” he gently coaxed him to do so. Greg washed Mycroft off, slowly massaging his scalp, trying to get him to relax.

“Not that I’ll be able to save them, I‘ll have to abandon them in the arena, but at least they might be able to hide away for some time.” he whispered staring blankly in front of him.

“Same as you.”

“Gregory.” he sighed.

“I just want you to promise me you won’t stand there and get yourself killed. Promise me that!”

“I can’t.” Greg closed his eyes taking a deep breath. 

“Water is getting cold. Let’s get you dried up.” Mycroft let Greg dry him, get him dressed. “My?”

“Hmmm?” he was lost in his thoughts again.

“I brought some cream to help with the pain, may I?” he held up the little tub.

“Sure.” Greg took his hand, laying him down on the bed. “You have to start concentrating on yourself, you have to get home to your brother after all.” he gently massaged the cream into Mycroft ankles. 

“I want to get home to him.” Mycroft covered his face with his arms. “I want that more than anything but…that means I have to...”

“You can do it Mycroft.” Greg turned his attention to his knees. “You can hide, you can use your magical skills to survive and to....”

“Kill.” he whispered. 

“If needed, yes.” Greg took Mycroft’s hand off his face, massaging his wrist. “It wouldn’t change your brother’s feelings for you, nor mine.”

“Then what? I’d have to come back here year after year to send children into the arena!” he sat up.

“I...sorry, I was being selfish.” Greg mumbled. Mycroft dropped back, rubbing his eyes.

“I think I’ll try to sleep now.”

“Sure, rest Mycroft.” Greg got up. “See you.” he kissed him hesitantly.

“You as well Gregory.” Mycroft kissed back distractedly. He stared at the ceiling trying to hold back his tears. 

“Mycroft?” Greg whispered stroking his hair..

“I’m just like them, grooming them to be slaughtered.”

“Wish I could change it.” he lay next to him, pulling Mycroft to his arms. “Wish I could…”

“I feel sick.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Make it go away.” he whispered clinging to him. 

“Wish I could.” Greg stroked his hair, holding him against his chest till he finally drifted off.

***

“Evening.” Greg stood by the door at the roof.

“Hello Gregory.” Mycroft didn’t look up from his book.

“May I?” he finally looked at him.

“Sure.” Mycroft wiped away his tears. Greg sat next to him wrapping a hand around his waist. “What are you doing?”

“For my brother.” he mumbled. “A goodbye letter…not that he’ll get it.”

“I’ll get the letter to him.”

“How?”

“I have connections, I’ll make sure he gets it.”

“I’m sorry for destroying your book.”

“It’s fine.” he shrugged.

“I’ll give it back on the last night.”

“Yours as long as you want it.”

“I just draw in it, write little things down.”

“Can I see it?”

“Not all of it, not yet.”

“Okay.” Mycroft sighed and turned a few pages.

“Wow.” Greg’s eyes grew wide. It was a portrait of Mycroft’s brother, so life like he almost expected it to speak.

“It’s just a doodle.”

“A masterpiece. You should have been born here.”

“What good would it do?”

“You’d been adored by all, talented artist, gorgeous, the world would be under your feet.”

“Sure.” he snorted.

“Show me some more.”

“Why?”

“Please.” Mycroft sighed but showed him a few more. “What about that?”

“No.” Mycroft closed the book.

“Who is it?”

“I said no!”

“I can get it from you.”

“No you can’t.” he hugged it tightly.

“I can.”

“I think I proved you wrong before.” however Mycroft wasn’t ready for being kissed. Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg, the book falling from his hands.

“There.” Greg pulled away, quickly picking up the pook. Mycroft gave out a detested whine.

“It is unfair.” he huffed.

“It is what it is.” he looked through it. “Ah…dear me.” he whispered. “This is me.”

“It’s not my best.”

“So real.” he mumbled.

“It is nothing.” he shrugged.

“It is really something. Could you…I mean…can I have a picture of you?”

“Drawing?”

“Yes.”

“To remember me when I’m dead?”

“I wish more than anything that you’ll win. That you’ll come back out alive.”

“Wish? Embrace reality Gregory, accept it.”

“You have to accept it as well that you do need to fight for your life.” Greg kissed him again.

“I just want to stay quiet, watch the stars and kiss. No more of the games!”

“Ignore real life?”

“Indeed.”

“We will need to talk however.”

“Not tonight.”

“Okay.” Greg kissed him. Mycroft snuggled to his arms.

“Sorry about last night, I’m not one to cry really.”

“It’s okay, no judgement.”

“Honestly?”

“Pinkie promise.”

“What is that?”

“Something we did when we were little, means we really really promise it.”

“I, pinkie promise not to just stand there and let them kill me.”

“I take it.” Greg kissed him, Mycroft kissed back.

***

“Tell me you didn’t have a hand in dressing me in a smoking for the interview.”

“Only hands.” Greg chuckled wrapping his arms around him. Mycroft leant against his chest, water and bubbles splashing to the floor. “Ops.” he chuckled. 

“It’ll dry up.” Greg chuckled. 

“I pretended I was in class, a very very big class.”

“Well you are more clever than all of them combined so…”

“Stop it.” Mycroft blushed.

“Are you sure you want me to stop?”

“No.” he slid down.

“Your letter is on its way.”

“Thank you. Are you sure it is safe?”

“Yes, he is a good mate of mine, known him from the institute.”

“Not orphanage?”

“Not for traitor’s children. It’s an institute to reprogram us.”

“What do they do there?”

“Whatever they want.” Greg whispered grimly.

“Why they had to hurt you.” Mycroft sat up, turning towards him. “You.” he cupped his face, kissing him.

“Why do they have to hurt you?” Greg pulled him closer, running his hand down his back.

“Gregory.” Mycroft whispered.

“It’s our last night together.”

“It is.” their forehead rested together.

“I…”

“If that is what you want.” Mycroft kissed him.

“What do you want My?”

“You.” he kissed him. Mycroft stood up helping Greg out of the tub, drying him. He planned on going slowly, but very soon they dropped to the bed kissing, not parting for more than a second, hands exploring the other eagerly.

“How do you...I mean…” Greg was flushed, he wanted Mycroft more than anything but was also hesitant.

“Just let me.” Mycroft kissed him sliding down on his body. Greg gasped when Mycroft took him to his mouth. His hand finally rested in Mycroft’s hair, his eyes fixed on him. He was gorgeous, his pale skin flushed, freckles all over him, his eyes almost black, moaning as he moved. “My, My…” Greg moaned. “I...Please.”

“Eager are we?” Mycroft chuckled.

“Maybe.” he smirked. Mycroft kissed Greg, straddling him. “Oooo.” Greg’s head dropped back. “My.” Mycroft planted his hands next to his head, eyes locked with his.

“Gregory.” he moaned, moving slowly. For a long while only Mycroft’s blue eyes, freckles and the pleasure existed for Greg.

“Promise me you’ll do your best.” Greg whispered his hand was making lazy circles on Mycroft’s back.

“Promise.” Mycroft was half asleep in his arms.

“See you in the morning.” Greg kissed him and got up. He wanted to stay till the sun came up. He wanted to spend every remaining second by Mycroft’s side, but he also had to be back in his room.

“Hmmmm.” Mycroft hugged the pillow, burying his face to it.

“See you love.” Greg pulled the blanket up to his shoulder kissing him goodbye. 

“How’s she?”

“Terrified.” Mycroft stepped to the elevator.

“No wonder. You?”

“I don’t know Gregory.” he tried to slow his breathing. “I have no idea.”

“What you deduce based on the clothing.”

“Warm and wet.”

“Tropical forest?”

“Probable.”

“That is good, plants, trees, perfect for hiding…”

“I can climb trees.”

“See, perfect for you.”

“Gregory, thank you for everything.” he whispered.

“No My, thank you.” Greg brushed his hand against his.

“Goodbye.” 

“Bye.” they stepped to the chopper landing. Mycroft sat next to Molly, received his tracker. Mycroft took her shaking sweaty hands.

“Just remember what you learnt.” she nodded quietly.

Greg stood in silence watching as Mycroft stepped to the elevator. They weren’t alone this time. Mycroft placed a hand on the glass wall, his eyes filled with terror. 

“Pinkie promise.” he whispered to Greg’s unsaid plea. The platform started to move, Greg stepped closer watching him as long as it was possible.

He sighed hurrying out of the room, so he could see the beginning of the game.

Mycroft blinked rapidly to get accustomed to the grey bright light. As suspected it was a rainforest. He quickly took in his surroundings, calculating what he could collect with the minimum amount of risk. When the canon went off he jumped and made a run for it. He grabbed a bag, zigzagging, grabbing another one and plunged to the dark thick forest.

He ran as long as his lungs allowed, then climbed up to a tree. He sat down, just realising the knife stuck to his forearm. He leant against the trunk panting, his eyes closed, listening to the canon, counting. Ten, ten was lost at the first bloodbath. He sat there for a long while trying to regain control over his body, taking deep breaths was hard with the warm humid air. “Now, focus.” he collected himself and checked out the bags. Rope, a bottle, matches and a folded up sheet was the only usable thing in the bags. The others were just trash to make it look fuller. Mycroft packed everything in one backpack. You could never know what they could be used for. “Right.” he looked at his bleeding arm. He tore up the sheet to make bandages and quickly pulled the knife out. He tasted blood as he bit down on his lips. “Fuck.” he panted, blood was pouring out of the wound. “Okay, okay.” he tried to light a match with shaking hands. The humidity made it harder but finally one lit up. He heated the blade, bit down on his lips again and touched it to the wound. He had to repeat it several times, using up all that was in the box but the bleeding finally stopped. He bandaged his arm up quickly. “Okay.” he whispered. “Okay time to move on.” he tried his best to move amongst the trees, avoiding the grounds, looking for water and a safe shelter for the night.

Greg stared at the screen in the common room, his nails cutting into his palm. ‘Mycroft survived the first day, Mycroft did it’ he kept repeating it in his mind. Unfortunately Molly did not, Greg was glad at least she didn’t suffer much.

“He is a nifty one.”

“Which one?” he looked around.

“The one...you know; yours.”

“Mine?” he frowned.

“It’s fine Greg, we all do it.” he winked.

“You do?” his mouth ran dry.

“Yeah, no worries. You are one of us.” he patted his arm.

“Thanks.” he mumbled.

“What do you recon, how long will he last?”

“All the way.”

“Ooooo, what do you wager on it?”

“Two month’s salary.”

“Two? Not that confident.”

“A year’s salary.”

“You are serious!?”

“I am.” Greg narrowed his eyes.

“Okay, we’ll see.” they shook hands.

“We will.”

***

“What’s the point of a rainforest if there is no rain in it!” Mycroft grunted. He’s been trying to find water for the past two days, he mapped out the whole arena but there was no body of water anywhere. He tried to get moisture from the plants, but it wasn’t as satisfying as one’d hope. Meanwhile the death toll rose to sixteen. He only hoped the little ones passed quickly and relatively painlessly. 

“Rain.” he mumbled when hearing the thunder in the distance. “Finally.” he prepared leaves to catch the water. “Rain, rain.” he whispered waiting eagerly for the rain. It started to rain all right but it was not water. Mycroft hissed when the first drop of acidic water fell on his skin.

“No way.” he looked for cover quickly. He tried to cramp himself under a wider branch, but still the heavily pouring acid reached him. “I take it back, I don’t want the rain.” Mycroft closed his eyes, praying to any entity for it to stop raining. He lost track of time but finally it was over. Mycroft looked at his body, covered in chemical burns. He tried to move but the pain didn’t let him. “No way.” he whispered. “No way.” he screamed.

“I can hear youuuuu.” 

“Damn.” Mycroft cursed quietly. Staying quiet and unnoticed was the only way to survive.

“I can hear you.” he cooed. Mycroft had to move, he was too exposed in his current position. “I can see you…” an arrow scraped his head as he tried to climb further. “I can...shit!” he yelled “Shit!” there was no need to look back, Mycroft knew he was hanging by his feet. He never forgot to booby trap his current location.

“Come back you fucker!” he kept yelling. Mycroft climbed as high as it was possible, covered his ears and waited. His eyes snapped open when something touched his shoulder. He looked up to see a little container attached to a parachute. 

“Hello there.” he reached for it, trying to suppress a scream, moving proved to be more painful than he anticipated. 

‘For your sensitive, pale freckled skin’ he read the little note. Mycroft shook his head with a smile. He took the cream and spread it over the damaged skin. “Thank you.” he sighed feeling the soothing sensation. “Thank you so much.”

When he woke the pain subdued and there was an eerie silence around him. He was relieved he could move his limbs, so he climbed down to see if he managed to free himself. 

“Well.” Mycroft whispered. “He did not.” he picked up the bow and the arrows and hurried away.

***

“Thank you guys.” Greg sighed relieved. “It means a lot to me.”

“It’s fine Greg, sorry we couldn’t get him water.” Greg at the start called upon his friends. Friends who shared the same secret as him. They met up week after week to be themselves freely. To talk, to vent, to help each other in any way they could. 

“He is doing pretty well.” Dimmock tried to reassure him.

“He does.”

“How many left?”

“Seven.” Greg kept his eyes fixed on the screen.

“You think there is still time, before they speed things up?”

“I hope, all I can do is hope.”

“You said he is good in close combat.”

“Oh he is.” he smiled. “He is…just not sure he is mentally prepared for that.”

“No one can be. So you just…”

“Looked at him and knew.” he smiled. “Knew he is the one for me.”

“Bad luck, I guess.”

“No…” he looked at him with a smile. “I am lucky, truly lucky.”

“What if he wins? What will you do then? Get transferred to his district? Live under constant fear?”

“I’ll do what we always talked about.”

“How?”

“I’ll figure.”

“What about your brother?”

“I found him.”

“You did! Where? When? Why didn’t we know? I want to know everything!”

“He has changed.”

“Changed?”

“I went to see him but he wouldn’t talk to me, he said I spent too much time with father. That I’m infected already. That I can pretend, but he knows who I am truly. My father’s son.”

“So as him.”

“No, for him he is just someone making him…nothing else.” Greg wrapped his arms around his legs. “I have no one left but Mycroft.” he whispered.

“He has better chances now, less of them, he is armed…you said he is good at shooting.”

“He is, yes.” he mumbled. “Thank you again, I’ll find a way to repay you all.”

“No need. Glad we could repay all you did for us.”

“I didn’t do so expecting anything in return.”

“Neither we are.”

“Everyone underestimated him.”

“Well they shouldn’t have.”

“No.” Greg chuckled. “They shouldn’t have.”

“They underestimated you as well…big mistake.”

***

“I can do this.” Mycroft mumbled to himself. “Seven of us left, five arrows. I can...can’t.” he rubbed his eyes. “I can’t, not like this.” he murmured. “Not like this.” he climbed down the tree and traced his way back to the body. He didn’t hear the chopper yet, so it must have been there still, he reasoned. He cut the rope, pulled the body to a branch and then cut it up. “I’m sorry.” he kept repeating it. “Sorry.” by now he knew the layout of the arena by heart, he knew where the three who still kept their alliance have been hiding. He made his way towards them above ground and dropped the meat around the camp. “Tiger, tiger here you come.” they were especially bloodthirsty creatures, modified to smell one drop of blood from miles. Mycroft learnt that on the first day, also that –thankfully- they were bad at climbing trees. He closed his eyes waiting for the screams to die off and for the canons as well. “Three more to deal with.” he whispered. “Three more...be clever, that is what he’d say. That is what he’d say.” This wasn’t the time for feelings, he had to fight, for his brother, for Gregory. Fight so they don’t have to go through the pain, the loss; he had to make it for them.

“Three more, all scattered around the arena. Hiding.” he knew of course where, but wasn’t sure how to approach them. He went through his bag, checking what else was left. The container and the parachute; “The girl from two, she was always…” he tried to remember. “She rarely visited the survival station.” Mycroft searched for some delicious looking but lethal berries, packing them in the container. He got the lights to blink again and dropped the little thing from as high as he could so it’ll land by the cave just like it came from outside. 

His persistence was rewarded with the sound of the canon.

“Two more.” Mycroft tried to remember every detail of the remaining tributes. Their weaknesses, any way he could trick them, any way to avoid full frontal confrontation.

“Only three of us left. At any moment they could decide to end it.” he lay back on the branch, watching the monkeys jump above his head. “If they decide to end it, they need an open place, so they can get a nice clear shot of the end game.” he murmured to himself. “There is only one place for that.” he got up and headed towards the clearing. He set up camp on a tree, waiting. He’s been up for the past two days but did not feel the need to rest. A day passed without anything, Mycroft was sure that the next day would be the end. People needed to be entertained. And of course he was right, it started with animals fleeing the fire, he did as well reaching the clearing they started at. Mycroft shot the first to emerge without hesitation. The last tribute waited as long as it was possible, but the fire chased her out as well. Mycroft abandoned his cover a long while ago, waiting for her in the middle of the field, knowing pretty well there was only one bow and she was terrible at knife throwing.

“Sorry, but I promised.” he whispered before he let go of the arrow. “I promised.” he collapsed to the ground.

***

“I promised.” Mycroft opened his eyes. Two sets of hands grabbed him tightly and dragged him off the chopper. “I promised.”

“Shut up already.” he was dropped on the floor, water poured on him. Mycroft shut everything out, he didn’t feel the cold, the pain the disinfectant caused, the scrubbing since the medication kicked in and Mycroft was taken by the sweet darkness.

“Morning.” a familiar voice whispered near his ear. “You are safe My, you are safe. They took care of everything.” Mycroft turned towards the voice. “You did it. I knew you could.”

“You knew I was a monster.” Mycroft reached for Greg’s warm hands.

“No.” Greg stroked his hair. “No, My.” 

“I had no other choice.”

“I know, you were brave, clever not clever genius! Strong, so strong Mycroft, so persistent, resourceful, cunning...my sly cunning fox. You used the arena to your liking...it was your game.” Greg kept stroking his hair. “You made it for your brother, you saved him and you are going home to him.”

“I kept thinking of you, what would you think of me, what would my brother think of me.”

“Relieved My.” Greg kissed his forehead. “I must leave now. See you later love.”

“Love.” he snorted. “I don’t deserve that.”

“You do, see you later My.”

***

“May I?” Greg stood by the door. 

“You do whatever you want.” Mycroft was in bed, staring at the window with blank eyes.

“Mycroft, you haven’t talked to me in days.”

“Was it days?” he mumbled.

“Yes.” Greg stepped in. 

“What day is it?”

“Friday, a day after the victory parade.”

“Was there one?”

“Yes.” Greg sat on the bed next to him.

“Oh, must have looked ridiculous.”

“No, I made sure you did not.”

“Not that it matters, blood is on everything...it’ll never wash away.”

“My.” Greg cupped his face. “You are so cold.” he whispered reaching for the blankets.

“It’s fine.” he mumbled.

“No love.” Greg covered him. “You look terrible, why are you refusing to eat...”

“Not hungry.”

“No…” he kissed his temple. “My darling, I promised I’ll make sure you are well, you are safe and well.”

“Why would anyone.”

“Trust me, that is all I ask of you now.” Greg kissed him. He got up, going through the drawers, choosing warm, long, durable clothing, packing up some plain sheets as well. “I have a letter from your brother.” he tried to get Mycroft’s interest.

“He will be better off without me.”

“Actually, you’ll see him very soon.”

“I know, we are almost back. And now if he gets chosen, I have to hand him over.”

“Things are changing love.”

“Nothing ever changes!” he yelled sitting up. “Nothing!” his tears were falling

“We are almost there, time to get ready.”

“Splendid.” he chuckled dryly. 

“We have to get to the front, be right back. Get dressed till that!” Greg took the bag and hurried off. 

“I asked you something.” Greg grunted and quickly dressed Mycroft.

“Isn’t it too warm?”

“No; now get ready to run.” he took his hand. As soon as the train entered the tunnel they started to run. 

“The lights.” the train plunged into darkness. “It missed the station.”

“Quiet.” he hissed. Greg opened a door, jumped off and helped Mycroft down as well. “This way.” he took his hand and led Mycroft through the dark. “Here.” he moved a few tiles exposing a maintenance tunnel.

“They’ll find us.” he stated flatly. Greg pushed him through the narrow opening, covering it behind them. “We have to hurry now.”

“What’s the point.”

“They did not find your brother when we took him out this way, they won’t find us either.”

“We?”

“No time to talk.” Greg pulled him towards the dark.

“How long?”

“Long My, long.” he sighed, Greg kept his hand on the wall. He dragged Mycroft behind through the long dark tunnel.

“What is this?”

“Maintenance tunnel. Some underground train thingy had it.”

“They know about it.”

“It is ruined, collapsed in…it was way bigger, supposedly.”

“They’ll find us.”

“Shhh now.” he sighed.

***

“Mycroft!”

“What is it?” he mumbled.

“It is getting cold.” Greg sat next to him wrapping a blanket around him.

“It is.” he leant on his shoulder.

“Waiting for the stars?”

“Hmmm.”

“Sherlock is with the Watson’s, I let him sleep over.”

“Sure. Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That there were countries out here? Safe and reasonable countries?”

“No. I was prepared to make a life for ourselves in the wild.”

“We are safe here, yes?”

“Promise.”

“There won’t be a game.”

“I don’t think so. They are really civilised.” they had this conversation every second day. Mycroft, even after months, still could not feel safe in Scotland. Apparently they weren’t the only one escaping so when arriving they were aided by many.

Silence fell as they waited for the stars to come up. Mycroft slowly was getting better. He still had times when he just zoned out, forgot things but he was surely getting better.

“I found your book, the one you drew in during that week.”

“That week.”

“Our week.” 

“Our life?”

“Just starting.”

“You are terribly cheesy Lestrade.”

“At your service. I looked through the book, with your late permission.”

“Found anything interesting?”

“A lot…you wrote to me.”

“I might have.”

“Drew the stars for me.”

“Promised I teach you the constellations.”

“Pinkie promise?”

“What? Promise what?”

“Just…say yes.” he whispered. Mycroft sighed holding out his pinkie finger, Greg laced it with his.

“Yes.” Mycroft said. “Promise, whatever that is.”

“Splendid! How will Sherlock take the news you think?”

“News of what?”

“Our engagement of course.” Mycroft started to chuckle. “It is not a joke Holmes, you said yes.”

“I know, I know…you are really peculiar Lestrade.”

“Why you love me?”

“Exactly why I love you.” Mycroft kissed him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
